


Up on the Rooftop

by Scylla87



Series: Sounds of the Season [5]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Cold Weather, Coldwave Winter Week 2018, Day 5: Hostage/Kidnapping, Hand Jobs, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, risk of hypothermia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 23:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17110073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla87/pseuds/Scylla87
Summary: When the Santini's accidentally kidnap the wrong Snart, Mick is forced to do everything in his power to keep his former cellmate from freezing to death, including huddling for warmth in his bed, naked. Having the man pressed against him under this circumstance shouldn't make him hard, but it kind of does.Coldwave Winter Week Day Five: Hostage/Kidnapping + Extras 5, 7, 11, and 29 Frostbite, Huddling for Warmth, Blankets, and Hypothermia





	Up on the Rooftop

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled a little with this one, and it isn't my favorite that I wrote so far, but I hope that you guys enjoy it all the same. Let me know what you think. Thanks so much for reading.

Up on the Rooftop:

Leonard Snart woke with a start. The world around him spun as he tried to get his bearings. He was sitting up somewhere, ropes around his wrists and ankles. It was obvious what had woken him, the cold biting into his flesh, but that was the only question he had that was readily answered. Everything else was a mystery. Where was he? How had he gotten here? Involuntarily he shivered, and not just from the cold. Though the cold was a problem. He had spent too long loving the chill to be unaware of the risks he was facing. The words sprang out at him: Hypothermia, frostbite. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. The realization scared him. How long had he been here? How much danger was he in? One question at a time. He took a deep breath and tried to order his thoughts, but the cold was making thinking difficult. Where was he? That was the question he need to address first. He tried to turn his head to get an idea of his surroundings, but the world around him spun again, causing him to clench his eyes closed against the dizziness that overwhelmed him. Whoever had done this had clearly hit him over the head to get him here. But where was here? He was pretty sure that he was outside. Who had done this to him? The only answer that question gave him was darkness.

 

 

He woke again, eyes opening slowly. There was nothing new in the world around him, and he tried to focus on the task at hand. How had he gotten here? His memories of what had happened were hazy. The last thing that he remembered was going to the school with his sister. Lisa had been in the Christmas pageant, and she was so excited, had jabbered at him the whole way there. In his half focused brain he could even see the building in the front of him. That was the last thing he remembered. Everything after arriving at the school was a blank. Had he made it inside before they’d grabbed him? And an even more pressing question, what had they done with his sister? If they had hurt her… He didn’t even try to finish that sentence in his mind. It didn’t matter exactly what he would do if they had laid a hand on Lisa; they would regret it either way. He struggled against his bonds, desperate to get free, but all he managed to do was tip the chair over. The world went dark again as his head hit something hard.

 

 

He woke again, even slower than that last time. It was difficult to open his eyes, and even when he did everything was blurry. Four shapes were close to him, men he thought. Their voices overlapped each other, all saying words he didn’t understand. One of them came closer, and Len thought he recognized Mick Rory, his old cellmate from juvie. But that couldn’t be real. Why in the world would his old cellmate kidnap him? It made no sense, just another confused thought in his head. It had been years since they had seen each other anyway. If Mick was here, would he even remember him? Probably not. What they’d had was over now. Long over.

 

There was more chatter, and the man that looked like Mick spoke gruffly. “What the fuck?” he said. He even sounded a little like Mick

 

Len tried to focus on the words, tried to make sense of what they were saying. Another man was speaking. “You got some sort of problem Rory? We discussed the way you speak to your superiors.”

 

Rory? Len focused on the thought so much he almost missed the response. “You took the wrong fucking Snart!”

 

“We grabbed him from the school,” the man spoke like the listener was someone dumb. “He was with the right girl.”

 

“But that isn’t Lewis Snart. He look old enough to have a ten year old?”

 

“He doesn’t boss,” yet another man said

 

“Then who is he?” That was the voice of the one called boss, Len thought.

 

“Leonard Snart. You morons took the son!” The Mick lookalike sounded disgusted. “What the fuck Santini? You said you wanted the old man. Don’t you know what he looks like?”

 

The name hit Len in waves. Santini. This was about Lewis? His dad had managed to piss off the mob, and he’d gotten caught in the crossfire. That sounded about right. He wanted to speak but the cold seemed to have stolen his tongue along with his ability to move. The boss started talking then. “Okay. Maybe I’ve never actually seen Snart myself.”

 

Len tried to stay awake, tried to listen to what the boss had to say to that, but he was fading fast. He groaned softly, so softly even he barely heard it. And everything went dark again.

 

 

The world was heavy and warm, pressing him down into something soft. That made no sense to him. Leonard’s last memories had been of severe cold. The cold had retreated, as had the voices that had carried him into unconsciousness. The world around him now was silent except for a low, deep hum. He tried to move against his bonds and found that he was no longer tied up. There was a weight on top of him that shifted with him sluggishly as he moved, but the weight pressed against his back resisted his attempts to escape. Something was holding him tightly. “Where am I?” he mumbled to himself.

 

Whatever he was pressed against moved then, all on its own, and moved him as well. He felt himself being pulled along the soft surface until he was pressed even tighter against the weight. It was the warmest part of his new reality, and he found himself wanting to burrow against it to steal some of that warmth. His back vibrated as someone spoke. “Snart?”

 

The voice was familiar. Where had he heard it before? The memory of cold came back to him, making him shiver. “Shit!” the voice said. Leonard was pulled even tighter against the warmth.

 

Something rubbed all over him, spreading warmth through his body. He risked opening up his eyes. Wherever he was now, his captors at moved him from the original holding place. There was no more sky above him and a dim light that somewhat lit a small room. The lack of cold told him that they had given up their plans of letting him freeze to death. He tried to rack his brain for what he remembered of being on the roof. A name stuck into his head. “Santini,” he whispered softly.

 

There was a deep grunt behind him, and it hit him all of a sudden what he was pressed against, another person. A panic filled his veins and he stiffened. “Just me,” the person said behind him.

 

Len struggled to remain calm as he tried to process who ‘me’ was supposed to be. This situation was unknown, and he had learned long ago to tread carefully. He racked his brain for how best to proceed. There had been someone on the roof with him that he had known. The memory came back to him slowly but with it came his anger. “What the fuck Mick?” he hissed, careful to keep his voice low and even just in case the others were close by. “You just let them kidnap me?”

 

Mick shrugged against his back. “They needed a safecracker. Said they were after your pops, or else I would have begged off.” Len turned to look at him over his shoulder and found that he looked to be telling the truth. “It wasn’t until I saw you on the roof that I realized their mistake.”

 

Len waited for him to go on, but he remained silent. Mick was good at silent. It had always been one of the most frustrating things about him. “Why are you working for the mob?”

 

Mick shrugged again and Len sighed. “Okay then. Why are you working for morons in the mob?”

 

Mick chuckled a little at that. “It’s just a job.”

 

The words made Len angrier, and he struggled not to yell. “They wanted to kidnap my dad and force them to work with him. That’s just a job for you?”

 

There was something in the other boy’s eyes that made Len wary all of a sudden. “Your pops deserves what he gets.”

 

The words made Len shift awkwardly. He knew what Mick was referring to and did not want to talk about it. Not now, not ever. “And Lisa?”

 

“Told them they couldn’t touch her if they wanted my help. Way they talked, they had something on your dad, told them to use that to keep him in line.”

 

Len nodded for want of something better to do. If he thought that getting answers to some of his questions would help make sense of this, he was wrong. How could they have made a mistake like this? He looked nothing like Lewis. “Apparently it can’t be much if they don’t even know what he looks like.” His jaw clenched as he thought about the situation he was in. “What’s going on?”

 

“Told you. They need a safecracker. Supposed to be your pops.”

 

Len’s jaw clenched as he kept his temper in check. “And what does that mean for me?” Mick’s grip on him loosened a little and he looked abashed all of a sudden. ”You told them I’m a safecracker too,” Len supplied for him.

 

“I had to.” He sounded like he was pleading. “It was the only way they’d let me save you.”

 

The biting cold came back to him as his old friend spoke. How long had he been up there? “I was dying?” he asked carefully.

 

Mick nodded. “You were so cold. People die of cold same as fire.”

 

There was something sad in his voice that Len suspected he wasn’t meant to have heard. He chose to focus on his immediate concerns for the time being. “Where am I?”

 

“My place.” Mick shifted a little.

 

Len looked around him again, details falling into place. He was in a bedroom, in a bed, a mess of blankets piled on top of him. “Thanks,” he murmured. Whatever Mick’s part in all this mess was, it was undisputable that the man had saved him from freezing to death. He remembered his fingers and how they had been so numb they hurt. “Was anything black?” he asked carefully.

 

“Black?” the other man asked. Of course, he wouldn’t be familiar with frostbite and what it looked like.

 

That was enough of an answer. If he had gotten frostbite, even Mick would have noticed, so he let the question drop. His eyes darted around the room once more as he tried to think. Certain details presented themselves to him as he considered his predicament. It seemed that he was going to have to pull a job for the mob, the details of which he was unaware of. He hated being in the dark about what was going on, but now did not seem to be when he was going to get any answers. Besides, it was too warm beneath all the blankets for him to want to rise, so he focused on the details of where he was instead. In another man’s bed. “Why’d the let you bring me here?” he asked carefully.

 

“I convinced them I could keep you in line.”

 

The laugh that escaped his lips was involuntary; Mick laughed with him. The sound warmed him even more than the cocoon of blankets, and they were more than warm enough. A thought occurred to him suddenly. “You have got to be hot,” he murmured.

 

Mick shrugged, but Len could feel his sweat against his back. “You needed the warmth.” There was something shifty in his eyes.

 

Len nodded and rolled that statement over in his mind. There were details about the situation that were nagging at him, dying to fit into place in his mind. He considered it all. The blankets, the dull hum of what was probably a space heater, the body huddled beside him. All of them were ways to help fight off the effects of hypothermia. The blankets and the heater were givens, something anyone would have thought of. But the body heat? His eyes scanned the room with more purpose. There was an object just at the edge of what he could see without moving that looked like a book. It was the most bizarre thing he’d encountered since he’d woken up on a rooftop, tied to a chair. The other man had taken the time to investigate how best to help him. From a book. Mick was a reader? He didn’t know Mick could read. The thought almost made him laugh a little before another thought occurred to him. If Mick had looked up how to treat extreme cold in a book and found out about the benefits of sharing body heat… Suddenly the missing detail that had eluded him fell into place. “Are we naked?” he asked carefully, though he knew the answer.

 

Mick looked abashed again. “The book said…” he trailed off.

 

“That is works best if both parties are naked,” Len finished for him. Suddenly the air around them was tense all of a sudden. “I, uh… I might be warm enough now.”

 

“Right,” Mick mumbled, making no move to rise from the bed. His arms were still wrapped around his former cellmate as they laid pressed together wordlessly.

 

Len considered the situation he was in. Even if he had known that he was going to be kidnapped, this was not how he would have imagined the night was going to end up. He turned, very carefully, in the other man’s arms until they were facing each other more or less. “Thanks for this,” he mumbled awkwardly. Now that they were facing each other, it seemed even odder that neither of them had made a move to get out of bed.

 

Mick nodded and shifted a little himself, his leg brushing between Len’s, right where it shouldn’t have. A soft groan fell from both their mouths at once. “Sorry,” Mick said sheepishly.

 

And yet neither of them made a move to get away from each other. Len couldn’t help but wonder about the events that led to this exactly moment. Did the advice in the book shock Mick, make him question what he was about to do? Had he looked as he stripped Len naked? Had he considered whether or not to do this before he’d stripped naked and climbed beneath the covers? They had been close together, pressed against each other so Mick could share his body heat. How many times had they accidently touched before Len had woken up? “I uh…” he began, unsure what to say.

 

To his surprise, Mick leaned down and kissed him. When he pulled away he looked embarrassed, something Len never though he would see. “Sorry,” the older boy murmured. “I always wanted to do that before.”

 

The word ‘before’ seemed to echo in Len’s mind. He thought he knew that the other man meant by that. There had been moments years ago where they could have crossed the line but never did. The thought made him tilt his head up a little and kiss the other man again. This kiss was deeper, their tongues brushing against each other. And that was not the only part of them touching as their hips shifted. Len gasped softly as he realized that Mick was hard. “Good to see that my almost freezing to death does it for you,” he teased between brief kisses.

 

Mick looked bashful, still such an odd look on his face. “You were naked against me and moving.” The rest of the thought didn’t need to be stated.

 

Leonard chuckled softly and wrapped his hand around Mick’s cock. The other man’s groan at the contact was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He leaned up again and brushed their lips together again as he began stroking. Soft groans vibrated against his lips, causing his own cock to fatten up. “You’re making me hard,” he said, like the other man had offended him.

 

Mick hummed contently, his head falling back against the wall. Len wondered if he imagined this. He could picture it vividly, Mick Rory with a hand on his cock pretending that it was his former cellmate’s. His balls clenched. “Shit Mickey!” he whispered. “You want to fuck?”

 

Mick’s eyes flew open, a wild look in them that was both worrying and hot. He shook his head and reached out for Len’s cock, grip firm but strokes timid. “Have you ever been with a man before?” Len asked him quietly.

 

The look in his eyes was answer enough. Len redoubled his efforts to get the man off. “But you’ve thought about it?”

 

“About you,” Mick said, voice so soft that Len almost didn’t catch it.

 

“I’ve thought about you too,” Len told him. “A lot. I think about my hand on you, like this, and other ways I might make you moan. Like my mouth on you. I think about that one quite a lot. I wonder what you taste like.” Mick moaned softly. “And I think about fucking you too.” He thrust into the other man’s palm as he said that. “We can work up to that though.”

 

Mick nodded and stroked a little more determinedly. “I want that,” he whispered.

 

Len pressed their foreheads together and panted. It had been so long since he had done something like this and there was already a familiar building in his gut. “I think we’re going to get your sheets all messy.”

 

Mick’s jaw clenched as he took short even breaths through his nose. “Not the first time,” he said through clenched teeth. A gasp fell from his lips. “Think about you too. A lot.”

 

The younger man smiled. He wondered how many times Mick had stained his sheets with those thoughts. “You going to get me messy too?” he asked as he ran his thumb along the man’s slit.

 

Mick nodded vigorously and groaned. If the throbbing him his cock was any indication, Len was sure that he was about to come in his hand. “Next time I want to taste you. You could even taste me too if you wanted.”

 

Mick groaned again as his cock jerked in Len’s fist. His cock came out creamy and thick as he sighed contently. “Fuck!” Len groaned in response and thrust his cock into the other man’s fist again as he followed him over the edge.

 

They lay against each other panting slightly, their come splatted on both of them. “Just think of how fast the nights in juvie would have passed if we had broken and done that,” Len teased.

 

Mick shifted a little and looked bashful again. His words came out soft and barely audible. “Afraid you wouldn’t want to.”

 

Len kissed him softly, hand brushing across the man’s spent cock. “Now you know better I guess,” he told him. “I intend to make you come again later, but for now, I need to know what we’re up against.”

 

Mick nodded began to tell Leonard everything about the job the Santini’s wanted him to perform. Len listened carefully, knowing that the job would need to be sorted out before the two of them could have any more fun.

**Author's Note:**

> The poll is now closed and the winner is: [ All I Want For Christmas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132309)


End file.
